


The colors we wear

by Eule



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Aramis and Porthos are there for him, Athos is moody, Friendship, Porthos is a little bit slow sometimes, Roger is a cat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-06-13 15:08:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15367296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eule/pseuds/Eule
Summary: There is some magic in the world, some have it, some not. The small bookshop has seen a lot of it in his long life; Athos, Porthos and Aramis know how to use their own magic most of the times, but the little house will tell them if they are doing it wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don't know exactly where that came from, but I like the idea of magic in our world and that there are some buildings and objects which could some kind of communicate with us or show us what they think about our doings.  
> There will be more chapters in the future, when there are people who want to read about it :)

They knew it wasn’t a good day even before they entered the little bookshop. The house looked so sad, that it seemed to hurt when you watch too long.  
The normally slightly swinging bookshop sign hung limp from the angles, usually it swung back and forth as if struck by a light breeze. The walls looked older than were, they had their charme, these old red bricks, with round corners from the years of rain and wind they had seen, but instead of warm and somewhat cozy they seemed cold and lifeless today.  
The green awnings above the front door and the windows hung deeper than normal, giving them the appearance of half lidded eyes.

“Looks like he wants to be alone today”, Porthos said and Aramis snorted. “Yes, but we won’t let him brood about whatever dark thoughts had occurred to him. Let’s go inside. I don’t like the house looking so sad, let’s make it that small and happy place it used to be, again.  
Porthos nodded and gave the house a small pat before they entered. As a last warning to stay outside, the three steps to the front door were a little bit higher than any other day.

“Athos, don’t you think this is a little bit overdramatic?” Aramis asked after the sound of a church bell ringing was gone. Normally there was a nice little ring when a customer entered the door, at a very good day it even played a small melody, but that only happened once or twice a year.  
But Athos wasn’t in sight, only Roger the black cat, sat on the counter and watched them with his different colored eyes. 

They found Athos at the end of the last row of neatly organized bookshelves on a big armchair with an half empty bottle of whiskey next to him. He was the center of misery the house reflects.

Porthos crouched down in front of him, even without his empath ability more than aware of Athos  
mood. He didn’t use his ability on his friends, especially not on Athos. The man could feel when others use magic around him and he didn’t appreciate it. But his ability was helpful in his job as a cop. He could make out the troublemakers before someone gets injured and was able to calm people on a crime scene down. It was a very good ability to have, but Athos had made it very clear, that he didn’t want to be touched by it. 

And Porthos respected that, but he wasn’t able to suppress it totally and he could feel the sadness coming from his friend. He could see it, too. Athos was wrapped in a thigh blanket of black, maybe it was more a dark grey. His emotions looked darker, because they were wrapped so tightly around him.  
His own emotions were different, spreading wide and trying to find someone they could connect with, wrapping around other people.  
Aramis’ emotions shoot high to rain down on everyone near him. It was only a light touch but most of the people were reacting in a wonderful way to it.  
Porthos world was extremely colorful because he saw everyone wrapped in his emotions, but he only knew what the colors mean when he used his empath ability.

“Athos you know the shop is open? What should the people think when they see you here? Miserable and on the best way to get drunk before midday?” Aramis chided gently even if he knew as well as Athos, that no one will come today. The house had his own way to make itself unseen to people, they go to the coffee shop next door instead and thought it was their decision, clever little bookshop.

Aramis positioned himself behind Athos and let his fingers stroke gently through the thick black hair, massaging the scalp softly. Athos didn’t move but he could feel his friend relax beneath his administrations.  
He could feel the tension bleeding out piece by piece. He was a healer after all, using his ability as a paramedic, or like now, to help a friend.

Porthos allowed his own emotions to wrap carefully around Athos , reassuring him with friendship and kindness. It was kind of a gamble with Athos, he could explode at their try to comfort him or he could appreciate it. Today it was the latter, he leaned into them, letting their friendship wash over him and relaxing more with every passing minute.

Roger came over and jumped into Athos lap, seeking out a comfortable spot and laid down, curling around himself and purring loudly. 

Without their doing the whisky bottle closed the cab and Aramis allowed a small smile to slip across his face.

Porthos stood with cracking knees and walked to the kitchen. He came back a few moments later with three cups of hot coffee. “Let’s go to the couch in the front, maybe there will be a little bit of sunshine, it is quite dark behind the shelves and it looks like the clouds were opening up.”

They all knew it was Athos mood which had kept the sun out. The whole street was bathed in sunlight, only the little bookshop had some clouds above its roof.  
Athos cheeks flushed a little bit at that statement, but he lifted Roger up and followed the promised coffee out of his dark corner.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, before Porthos and Aramis began to speak about their day, bickering and making jokes. Athos sat in their middle, listening to the easy banter. He won’t talk about his dark moods, but he appreciated their concern and their help.

And while the three of them drank their coffee and Roger purred satisfied in Athos lap, small streams of sunshine entered the little bookshop and the bookshop-sign outside began to swing softly in a breeze that wasn’t there.


	2. He wouldn't do something like that.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos hadn't done anything, but maybe Porthos had.

„Only to be sure I understand everything right; you imprisoned Athos today, because a ‘want-to-be-cop” from Gascony told that he murdered his father in cold blood yesterday with a pistol. Which, of course, was free of fingerprints. And it has to be him, because he fitted the description and vaguely looked like the person on the video footage. Black hair and light eyes to be precise, and there was a business card from the bookshop on the crime scene?”   
“And he told them his name”, Porthos added darkly and ordered another beer.  
“That is ridiculous”, Aramis stated. “Hello my name is Athos and I am here to murder your father. Could you please step aside, because he is my only target and I don’t want to hurt you. If that happens it would minimize the chance that the police could capture me. Oh and in case you can’t remember my name, I’ve got this business card for you, thank you.”  
Porthos snorted. “No, I can’t believe it myself. Athos would be the person who killed with precision and in the way the people will call an ‘impossible crime’, you know? Something with closed windows and from the inside locked doors, something like that. Or very effective, sneak in, haven’t been seen, kill, sneak out and nobody has a clue what had happened. And he would definitely not leave a witness, he wouldn’t be that clumsy.”  
“Do you two want to find a way to free him or only dream about how good he would be as a murderer?” Serge the barkeeper asked. He was a veteran himself and even if the other two didn’t seem to notice, he could see that Athos had been a soldier once. He could tell that, but he won’t say something that would make him more suspicious out loud.   
“You are right, but he hadn’t done it. We have to proof that and will find out who has an interest in setting him up.”

 

D’Artagnan sat in the lobby of the hotel his father had booked for their visit to Paris. He was a member of the police now and wanted to go to Paris, because he thought it would be a little bit more exciting to work in a city than a small town somewhere near worlds end. His father had said he would accompany him on this trip, if he wants him to. Charles had been glad about the offer, he hadn’t seen a lot of big cities in his life and he knew his father had been to Paris a few times. His dad was a farmer by blood, he had the ability to make everything grow and bloom in short time, and some people had been scared of him. Magic was common in the city, but in a small town like theirs, there were a few people asking if this was right. If they lived a few hundreds of years ago they would have burned him without a second thought.   
He hadn’t developed any magical abilities so far and he wasn’t sure if he was glad about it or a little bit sad. He knew that these abilities could be quite useful. 

But he had other problems right now. His father was dead and he can’t believe that. His brain wouldn’t acknowledge that as the truth.  
He let his head sink into his hands and felt absolutely miserable. After a short while he decided to go to bed and made his way unsteady towards his room. Maybe it had been a little bit too much alcohol.   
Halfway down the corridor he saw a beautiful woman in a red dress and high heels closing a suite door. Their eyes met and a slight smile appeared on her face, catlike green eyes looking at him: “Hello my dear. You look like you could use a distraction from the world. I’ve got an idea how to help you.”

 

When D’Artagnan opened his eyes he needed a moment to recollect the night’s events. He had had the best sex of his life, with a wife he didn’t know and which had shown him things he hadn’t even dreamed of before. But before the feeling of satisfaction could settle totally he remembered why he was here and what had happened before that unforgettable night. But even that hadn’t been completely marvelous. She had had scars on her perfect body, from her husband who had tried to kill her. She couldn’t say why exactly, maybe because his brother had told him lies about her. Powerful lies and then he had attacked her. He remembered vaguely to promise he would murder that bastard if she wants him to. But that seemed to be not that smart in daylight. He turned his head and instead of the green eyed woman he only saw a small bunch of forget-me-nots on the pillow. 

 

“You are late. And please tell me you haven’t done something stupid again”, Porthos said after Aramis had finally arrived at the bookshop, hair disheveled, a big smile on his face and an emotional aura like an exploded rainbow, leaving sprinkles of color everywhere. A few of them landed on one of the bookshops awnings and the small building shook them off with a sound of disgust. Porthos grinned at that sight and had to withstand the urge to slap Aramis at the back of his head. 

“I was with Adele last night. Richelieu is out of town and we had a nice evening.” Porthos shook his head in disbelief, Richelieu was the Prime minister of France; Adele a young mistress of the dear eminence. Really beautiful and as it looked like, kind of bored with her older lover.   
But back to business. 

“Could you please unlock the door? It won’t open for me, I think it’s a little bit pissed I took Athos in custody.”   
“Then good luck with Roger”, Aramis deadpanned and unlocked the front door. It opened with a sound you only knew from horror movies and the hairs at Porthos neck raised. That was creepy, the bookshop had never been that angry with them, but they had never before tried to get Athos into prison, could be the reason for that.

“We are here to help”, Aramis stated out loud, but the house wasn’t really interested in that. Roger sat at his usual place on top of the counter, tail bushy and looked at them with murder in his eyes.

They looked at each other, in the first bookshelf was a whisper and then two books fell out of their place. The pages had pictures from middle age torture instruments on them. 

“Okay I understand a warning when I get one, what do you want do here actually?”, Aramis asked, while they retreated backwards through the front door.   
“Have a look if anything is alright and grab some clothes for Athos”, he told him while following his friend outside.

Before the door slammed shut on its own he shouted: “Don’t forget to feed the cat!” to the house. The little ‘closed’-sign clattered twice against the door, before everything went still. 

“After that had worked out so well, what have you planned to do next?” Aramis asked innocent.

 

“What do we have?” Treville asked. It was getting late and the interview with Charles D’Artagnan had only made everything a little bit more difficult, because he hadn’t been able to identify Athos. Which was good for him, but hadn’t helped them.   
One of the problems was, that Athos was more than capable to kill someone, Treville knew this, and he was the one who gave him the orders more than once. But that was years ago. So they had to find the real killer, because no one would let Athos go out of the prison without someone else they could make to stay.

“Not that much, Sir. Athos has a weapon, it is registered and he is allowed to use it. But it is not the one Alexandre D’Artagnan had been shot with, it hadn’t been fired recently at all. Athos said it had to be five or six month ago when he last used it on a firing range. The managment of the buisness confirmed that. The business card from the crime scene was definitely one from the bookshop, but there a hundredth of them in the whole city. Everyone could have come to the shop, took one and placed it on the scene. 

“Is there a camera at the bookshop?” “No, Athos didn’t saw the need for one, because it had never happened something”, Porthos answered. And the house didn’t like technic, but he won’t add that. He had no clue how Treville stood to magic, most of the people were okay with it these days, but he won’t try to figure that out yet.

“To put it in a nutshell, we are searching for a man only D’Artagnan had seen so far, but only with a mask. No one else had witnessed the crime. And that is all.”   
“Yes, Sir.”  
“Okay, take him to the crime scene. Maybe he will remember something when he sees the place again. I know it is unusual, but he wants to be a cop in this city. He knew how to behave there and what he has to do. Take him with you.”

 

“Porthos are you still on the crime scene?”  
“Yes, Sir. D’Artagnan is outside, he needed a moment for himself.”   
“Take him with you, our killer made a mistake, we’ve got an emergency call half an hour ago, a man who called himself Athos robbed a jeweler, he shot a man and injured two women. A business card fell out of his pocket when he leaved”, Treville told him.   
“But Athos is in custody Sir, it couldn’t be him. Oh. That’s what you mean with ‘he made a mistake’, aren’t you?” Porthos asked slightly embarrassed.  
“Brilliant deduction, Watson. Take D’Artagnan with you, he could wait in the car. I send you the address.”

 

D’Artagnan won’t wait in the car, he wasn’t a dog. Porthos thought something about puppy eyes but dared to say that out loud. So it was the two of them entering the jeweler.   
Aramis saw them and nodded, before he put his attention back at the women in front of him.

“Here are cameras”, D’Artagnan stated and Porthos thought that this was the first good information after that whole ordeal had begun. Hopefully they could get some useful information out of the footage.

“That wasn’t the man from the bookshop”, one of the women said, she took a bullet through her upper arm and Aramis prepared her for the ride to the hospital. He stopped in his doing and looked at her. “Where do you know that from?”   
“I buy my books in his shop. He is so nice and looks a little sad, but he is friendly and seems to know what I am searching for every time I am there. I like the atmosphere in there and his cat, Peter?” She looked confused.   
“The cats name is Roger”, Aramis helped out.   
“Yes! That’s it. Roger. The one with the different colored eyes. But the man today wasn’t him. He was bigger, like the police officer there and his shoulders were wider too. And the voice was different. He was unfriendly and… oh. He shot the jeweler! And he hurt me, I… oh.”   
“Shh. It is okay, you are safe now. I will bring you to the hospital and the doctor will help with your arm. You did a great job, the police will find the man who had done that, thanks to you. Everything will be alright.” Aramis took a short look at Porthos and got a nod in return. He had heard everything.

 

In the end it didn’t take long to catch Gaudet. The man was an arrogant bastard who thought his plan was perfect. It wasn’t, they got him two days later.   
One of the police cars was near the place he had chosen for his next crime and had followed him to his house. They had him under fire an hour later, but the sneaky bastard wasn’t cooperative and one of the team had to shoot him in the skirmish. It had been Gaudet’s life or of one of their own. Nobody has thought about that decision twice.

 

They get Athos from the prison together, he wasn’t very talkative, but that was something he had never been.   
When they arrived at the bookshop Athos entered first, Roger walking between his ankles within seconds. Porthos and Aramis stood in the doorway, not sure if the house would welcome them.  
Athos saw them there and quirked an eyebrow. 

“House wasn’t too happy the last time we were here, so are we welcome now?” Aramis asked.   
Athos snorted and gave the wall next to him a small pat. Then he collected three glasses and a bottle of wine, which was all the invitation they needed. Roger seemed to be a little bit angry still, but the house hadn’t thrown any more books in their direction. So everything should be right. 

“So first he brought me into prison and then helped to proof I’m innocent?” Athos asked curios.   
“Yes, he only wanted the right man in front of the jury. But he is young and wasn’t thinking too straight at the beginning. But I think that is understandable when you look at the circumstances. Treville offered him a job, said the boy is raw but promising. He accepted by the way and I gave him Constance number, she has a room to spare.”  
Athos raised an eyebrow. “You think that is a good idea?”   
Porthos looked confused. “Yes? He needs a room for a small price. Constance will give it to him?”   
“Yes. Put a young, hot-headed Gascon in the house of an unhappy married and beautiful woman. What could possibly go wrong?” 

Aramis laughed and Porthos starred at Athos in shock. “They would never do that! As you said, Constance is married and the pup lost his father a few days ago. They won’t do something.”  
Aramis laughed harder and Athos hid his smile behind his glass of wine. Porthos starred at them in disbelief.


	3. Barrels of Gunpowder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos and Aramis are amused, Porthos isn't, he has lost something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it is really short, but I had to write it down to get it out of my head. Hope you like it nevertheless.

„You’ve lost him? Like what, a Penny? “ 

Porthos glared at Athos, but didn’t say a thing. The man behind the counter of the little bookshop seemed far to amused for the whole situation. He could bet that even Rogers two colored eyes were sparkling with laughter.  
And if it wasn’t enough the doorbell of the shop made a happy little sound when the door opened. So even the building had fun in his misery. But Aramis would understand him. 

“What happened? You said there is an emergency?” Aramis stated worried and sat next to Porthos on the small sofa. When his friend only sighted, he looked confused in Athos direction. But the man was patting Rogers black fur with a slight smile on his face. So no explanation there, but he wouldn’t smile when something bad had happened.

“Could someone talk to me?” 

“I lost D’Artagnan.”

There was silence and Porthos looked at the carpet between his feet. He didn’t dare to look into Aramis disappointed eyes.  
“You lost your partner?” Voice quiet, unbelieving. Porthos only nodded.

“Like you lose your wallet when you have drunk way too much? Or, he isn’t dead, is he? No, Athos won’t be literally laughing at you when something like that had happened. So what’s wrong?”

Porthos could only stare at Aramis. Even his best friend thought that the situation was funny, it was definitely not funny. It seemed to be more like a catastrophe.

“He has a little undercover job. Nothing to serious, but we were supposed to meet each other today. That went well, but then I wanted to follow him. To make sure he is alright you know. And I could get him, when something went wrong. But I lost him in the crowd. One second I was right behind him and in the next he was gone. Simply gone.” 

Aramis hesitated for a moment. “Well, you know that undercover means, that he shouldn’t be found by someone? That’s his job, so maybe you should be proud of him, that he seemed to be good at that. And don’t panic about him being competent.”

Porthos snorted, maybe Aramis was right, but something didn’t feel right. Maybe he was a mother hen and there was nothing wrong. So he nodded and straightened his back.  
Athos came around the counter, with three mugs of hot steaming coffee. “Think you are working actually, so no whiskey for you, but you won’t leave without a cup of coffee.”

Trust Athos to believe in the magic of coffee, it will solve every problem. And when it won’t whiskey definitely would.  
When Porthos thought about it, Athos could really solve everything with one or the other. But that was a mystery for another day, now he had to find his protégé. 

In the end, Porthos was in great need of whiskey. D’Artagnan hadn’t been hurt, but it had been close to that. He admitted later, after they had done their job, that he had been tied to some barrels of gunpowder at some point, but had been able to convince his target of his innocence. 

After that Porthos had gone straight to the little bookshop, were the whiskey was already set out on the counter. He raised an eyebrow at Athos, who only shrugged.  
“Remember I told you, that he would be alright.”  
“Yeah, but you forgot to mention some barrels of gun powder, have you?”  
“Won’t have done something good to make panic. The lad is good, he will be better than you someday. Believe me. Where is Aramis? Haven’t you told him to come?”  
“You’re the one with the glass sphere, ask yourself.” Porthos grumbled and sipped at the golden liquor.  
Athos only smiled and filled another glass when the doorbell rang once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it had been so long! And I know I owe you an update for "Lost and found" too.  
> But I have to admit, that the first trimester of pregnancy hadn't been that charming, but the energie and creativity are back, so am I.
> 
> So thank you for waiting and I hope you could enjoy this one, even if it's short :)


	4. Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old enemie is back. But she should be dead, who knows that better than Athos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the stories that wrote itself, I was only allowed to sit in front of the paper and watch my hand writing down the words. It was kind of fascinating and it is longer than the others. Much longer.

Athos watched Porthos pacing without a word. He stood behind the counter, Roger at his usual place next to him, both with an unreadable expression on their faces.  
He hoped Aramis would arrive soon, he should have ended his shift by now and the man would know what to say to their agitated friend without getting punched. He on the other hand didn’t know such things and he’d liked to stay without a bleeding nose for today. So he remained silent and contented himself with watching. He had also put a cup of coffee and a glass whiskey on the counter, maybe something of that was appreciated. But he won’t ask, out of reasons. 

When Aramis finally came through the front door, the bell sounded more like someone sighting in relief than a bell. But Aramis wasn’t surprised, the little bell was an indicator of Athos’ mood and the man looked like he stood in the middle of a mine field without a clue what to do with the situation. Funnily enough Roger seemed to wear the same expression, but Aramis wouldn’t say that out loud. 

His eyes softened instantly, when they fell on Porthos. The big man was pacing the whole length of the building without taking notice of his surroundings and Aramis himself felt some of the same horror as his friend. They had both been at the same crime scene today, Porthos had taken Emilie Bonnaire in custody for selling young women and men to illegal sex rings. Aramis had tended the girl they had found in the basement of the Bonnaires house. She had been cold and drugged, but was otherwise unharmed. 

Aramis knew that Porthos had lost his mother after someone had raped her in front of him. He had only been five at the time, living in the streets afterwards until he was ten. Then someone took interest in him, making it possible for him to go to school and become a cop.  
But today it wasn’t Porthos the cop in front of them, it was the street kid, fighting to pull himself together after he had witnessed something horrible. 

Aramis covered the distance between them with a few long strides and put his arms around his friend. He felt the taut muscles beneath his arms and hoped that Porthos would accept his embrace; he could react quite harsh when he was at his lowest. Pushing everyone aside, because he was hurting too much. 

But he accepted Aramis in his personal space and let his head rest on the shoulder of his friend. His breathing was harsh, heart pounding and Aramis began to rub slow circles on his back. After a while he calmed down enough to relax a little bit and he looked with a watery smile at Aramis, who beamed at him with a wide grin. “That’s better, mon ami. You’re with us now? “ Porthos nodded. “You worried Athos, he fetched the good stuff out of the backroom.” Porthos looked at Athos, than at the glass next to him. “Sorry, but whiskey would be good I think.”  
Athos seemed to unfreeze at his words and grabbed two more glasses, no way Porthos would drink alone. He didn’t need something like that happening again anytime soon.

 

But it did, at a time it couldn’t have been worse.

Aramis stormed into the small bookshop without seeing the limp hanging sign. On every other day it would have been a dead giveaway that something was absolutely wrong, but he had only eyes for Porthos, who was slumped down on the couch in the front. His shoulder was bleeding heavily, he didn’t even take a look at Athos. Maybe if he had done it before he had a look at the blood on Porthos clothing, he had seen that something was terribly wrong. But he hadn’t.  
After Athos had called to tell him, that Porthos had been wounded at work and he should come to get him to a hospital, he had come straight here without another thought. 

“Porthos? Porthos, what happened? He tapped his cheek lightly and his friend blinked his eyes open, but closed them again instantly. The burning pain in his shoulder made it hard to understand what Aramis said. After another tap on his cheek he was able to open them again and focus on his friend, but he needed two tries to speak. But where had Aramis come from? When had he entered the shop and why hadn’t the doorbell rung? It was the third sign that something magnificent was wrong, but Aramis was too occupied with Porthos injury to notice and Porthos wasn’t able to connect his thoughts enough to point it out. 

“Y’member Bonnai’?” Porthos slurred and Aramis’ concern spiked, his friend had lost too much blood.  
“Yes I do. He is in prison, he couldn’t have done this to you.” He stated while he cut Porthos shirt open to get a better look at the wound.  
“’is wife did this. She attacked me on my way ‘ere. Scream’ somethin’ ‘bout love an’ that. Then she attacked me. Don’ know with wha’.” He took a shuddering breath and Aramis soothed him. “Okay, it’s okay. Now hush. I need you to stay consciousness, you hear me? I will patch you up. Do not move!”  
Aramis peeled away the last bits of clothes and gasped. It looked like the woman had used an axe to hurt his friend. His first impulse had been to call for an ambulance, but Porthos won’t make it thus far. He had to stitch him up here, Athos had one of his emergency kits under the counter.  
“Athos I need my kit. We can’t bring him to the hospital. Could you please give it to me?” 

But Athos only starred at him.  
“Athos my kit! Get moving!”  
“You can’t do it here. You must bring him to a hospital.” Athos voice was so low, Aramis thought for a moment he had heard it wrong. “Please repeat that?”  
“He can’t stay. You have to get him to a hospital.”  
“Do you understand what I said? He will die when we do nothing right now! Die, Athos! What is more important than a friend? Your carpet or the cushions on that old couch? What is wrong with you Athos!?” Aramis spoke with so much venom in his voice that Athos flinched.

Athos could hear the house scream. The little bookshop was on fire, magical flames climbing high the walls on the other side of the building. Someone unknown did this short before Porthos had tumbled trough his door. He wanted to make him go away, but Porthos was in no state to walk on his own, he had hoped that Aramis would take him to a hospital, but he refused to it. Athos held the flames at bay with pure willpower, but he can’t do that any longer. His body screamed with pain, every muscle cramping from the excitation. He had to put out the flames, but he can’t do that, while his friends were here. It was too dangerous. 

“Don’t you care about him Athos?” The words hit him like lightning and he took a shuddering breath. He cared so much about them. Hadn’t they realized that by now? They were the only persons in his life he called friends. He grabbed Aramis kit and brought it to the couch.

Aramis didn’t even glance at him, only grabbed the kit and began his work on Porthos. His magic helped him to save the life of his friend. 

Porthos wasn’t too aware about what happened but he saw something in Athos eyes, he had never seen before. It was pure panic and his empath ability looked at an aura of sheer horror, but Aramis healing magic made him drowsy and he forgot about Athos.

 

Athos breathed out in relief, when the blue flashlights of the ambulance were gone. Aramis had stitched Porthos wound and they were both on the way to the hospital. Probably because of the blood loss and because Athos had made it very clear that they had to leave.  
Roger came to him and he stroked his fingers through the soft fur to regain some strength. Then he began to soothe his house, it screamed in pain and Athos whole body was filled with it in an instant. Every muscle burned with hot, white pain and he gasped for air.  
He sank down to his knees, Roger a warm and steady presence at his side. He mumbled words of magic and grabbed every flame by its roots. It was a hard fight and one not easily won. He put out flame by flame and worked his way from stone to stone.  
He knew that magic, but that couldn’t be, the person was dead. Had died by his own hands years ago.  
The house went quiet after a while with most of the fire gone, but it was badly hurt. It would need the help of Aramis to recover fully, but would his friends ever come back again? If they won’t, he would help as much as he could and the rest had to heal with time.  
He came to the source of the fire and put every bit of his remaining strength into it. But it was a trap. He saw it a moment before he got the fire out and after that everything exploded in hot white pain and he fell on the floor of the bookshop. The house itself shut down, Roger disappeared and everything went dark.

 

Porthos woke to the steady beeping of his heart monitor and a reassuring hand on his arm. “Easy my friend, everything is alright.” He listened to Aramis voice and blinked his eyes open with some effort. He felt way too heavy for his liking.  
“Hey sleeping beauty” Aramis teased and smiled fondly at him. Porthos huffed and grimaced as he recognized the pain in his shoulder. Right those damn women with an axe in her hand. He tried to recollect what happened afterwards but everything was a little bit fuzzy. He went to Athos and then Aramis brought him here? Something like that.  
Porthos frowned after he had a look at the room, when he really had been at the bookshop Athos should be here, too. But he could only see signs of Aramis in the room, a book Athos wouldn’t even touch (the title seemed to scream that it was a heartbreaking love story), a coat and a smartphone (sprinkles of colorful emotions everywhere on the surface, Athos didn’t leave sprinkles). 

“Where is Athos?” he asked with a raspy voice and Aramis shrugged. “I don’t know, he had been mysterious yesterday, didn’t want me to treat you at the bookshop. He said he would come, but he wasn’t here since then.”  
“Called ‘im?”  
“Yes, straight to voicemail.” He looked angry, but Porthos had a bad feeling about it. He didn’t know why, but something was terribly wrong.  
“We ‘ave to go to him” he stated and licked his dry lips. Aramis gave him a glass of water and another look. “He kicked us out Porthos! You were bleeding to death and he won’t let us stay. I will never forgive him for that. He should knock on your door and apologize to you. You don’t have to go there.” He stated and Porthos looked calm in his eyes. Aramis seemed truly upset, but something bothered him. He didn’t know what, but he would go to the bookshop. Something didn’t feel right. 

 

“You are a stubborn fool. In don’t know why I am coming with you. You will rip your stitches and I have to patch you up again. And that because of someone who hadn’t helped when it was much needed.”  
Porthos ignored Aramis grumbling about Athos, he could sense that the other man was worried too. Athos had never been social, but he would never have let him die there. And he thought to remember something shortly before he had passed out. Panic? Angst? Something had bothered their friend and he would find out what.  
Just before they could see their destination Porthos stopped to gather himself. Aramis hand on his injured shoulder helped a lot more than every painkiller could have. He smiled at him and they both moved forward only to stop in shock a few seconds later.  
They could see the bookshop, the façade looked gray, the bookshop sign hung limply from only one angle and it looked like it would come down any second and there were holes in the awnings. 

They sprinted the rest of the way, Porthos own injury forgotten. It was dark inside, the closed-sign hung in the front door. One of the windows was cracked.  
An older man walked past them and said: “Some vandals were here tonight. They broke the window and made the other damages to the building. This world is a sad one to live in. Have a nice day gentleman.” He tipped two fingers on the brim of his hat and walked away. Porthos and Aramis both nodded but knew that this wasn’t the work of vandals, the house knew how to protect itself from things like that. 

Aramis touched the wall carefully and felt so much pain that he gasped. He rubbed a thumb soothingly over the rough surface and whispered: “We are here now. We will help you but we need to find Athos. Where is he?”  
At his question the front door opened a little and they entered the dark room. It felt cold and smelled burned, but there weren’t any signs of a fire. 

“Oh fuck” Porthos breathed and Aramis looked in his direction and than at the person lying face down on one of the carpets in front of the counter. He would recognize his friend everywhere and sprinted to Athos lifeless body without another thought. He was alive but only barely and he turned him carefully on his side. His had dried blood beneath his nose and there were dark bruises on the left side of his face. His pulse was weak and he didn’t respond to Aramis try to wake him up.  
He could feel the exhaustion and pain coming from Athos body and frowned. These were definitely injuries caused through magic, but whom had he fought? And why was the house so damn silent? It was scary.  
“What should we do?” Porthos asked and looked nervously around.  
“We need to make him comfortable and keep him warm. And then I fear that it is up to him. Not much more we can do, I will ease his pain as much as I can.” 

 

When Athos woke two days later it wasn’t in the way Aramis had expected. He woke with a start and panicked instantly. Aramis himself was too stunned to react properly and Porthos had been in the kitchen to make some tea. He saw Athos eyelids flutter open and then the blanket slid to the ground while Athos was at his feet within the blink of an eye later. Athos stood in the corner of the room, his back pressed flat against the wall. Porthos stood in the doorway but didn’t dare to come closer.  
Aramis looked at Athos and walked slowly to him. “Ath, can you hear me? It is us, Aramis and Porthos. We are at my flat and you are safe now.” Athos only starred at him, pupils delated, the green irises only a small circle around them and he wasn’t breathing.  
“Athos listen to me. Everything is alright, look at me. You have to breath, match me Athos. In and out. In and out.” It would have been easier to touch him and let him feel his own regular heartbeat, but he didn’t dare to. Athos was more powerful then he and Porthos together and more than capable of wounding him badly. They had never talked about it when he was near, but they knew that their friend was an old creature and a mighty one, even if he didn’t want to show it.  
Athos seemed to register his words or it was a happy coincident, but he sucked air into his lungs. Aramis made another step into his direction and spoke softly to him. Athos blinked once, twice and looked a little bit more aware of his surroundings by the third time.  
“‘mis?” “Yes it is me. And Porthos. We are both here. You have to lay down again, okay? You are badly injured and need to rest. I have to touch you, okay?” But Athos tried to move away and Aramis stopped. His eyes wandered between the two of them and he mumbled “ ‘m sorry” before his eyes rolled back in his head and Aramis could luckily grab him, before he hit the floor. 

The next time Athos woke, Aramis hold him down by the shoulders. Porthos was fast asleep on the sofa, propped up on his side with some cushions to release his inured shoulder. He was absolutely comfortable and not easily woken up.  
Aramis spoke to Athos and tried to get through the panic, that once again filled these green eyes and it seemed to work. He calmed more with every word Aramis spoke and sank back onto the bed, his eyelids dropping again and Aramis thought him asleep, as they snapped open once more. He tried to get himself out of the blanket cocoon that was wrapped around him, but wasn’t really successful.  
“Stop it. What do you think you’re doing?” Aramis asked and pushed him back. Athos starred at him and whispered in a broken voice “Safe. Bookshop.”  
“The bookshop is safe Athos, no one had been there when we found you. It is safe, as are you. Porthos or I will have a look later okay? You have to rest and stay in bed for another day or two. You have been badly wounded my friend and need to heal a little bit more until you can walk around again. I will help you with that.”

Athos only shook his head and tried to get up once more, but Aramis hold him down again. “Athos look at me!” he snapped and Athos eyes skittered to a halt at his face. “I don’t know what happened two days ago and we have definitely a few things to talk about, but right now your body needs the rest. You were barely alive when we found you and I am not in the mood to fear for someone’s life in that bookshop again any time soon. So you will stay put in that bed until I told you to do otherwise. You understand me?”  
Athos starred into Aramis eyes and took a shuddering breath.  
“I know that the bookshop is hurt my friend, but you need to regain some of your strength before we can help there. I don’t know how deep your bond with those bricks is, but you need to heal a little bit more. Can you do that? Right now you would hurt yourself even further and that won’t help anyone. So rest my friend. Sleep Athos.”  
Athos eyes slid close instantly and Porthos huffed behind him.  
“He will be annoyed about that. But it speaks volumes about how exhausted and hurt he is, when it is so easy for you to make him sleep.” Aramis turned around and grinned. “You’re awake! And when isn’t he annoyed with one of us? Probably he calls us annoyance one and two for years. “ Porthos laughed and hoped that anything would be alright soon.

 

The little bookshop was cold and alone and hurt. It hadn’t been alone in years and had never been wounded that badly before. It had lived unharmed through centuries with war and peace and had seen enough bad and good things happen. But it had never felt something like that. Athos had brought calmness and melancholy into its rooms, but also an unmatched feeling of safety. Porthos and Aramis were the light that made Athos smile sometimes, so they are good too. But it were the moments of companionable silence with Athos in his armchair, one of the original books from the first day of the bookshop in his hand and Roger in his lap, that were so precious to the little building. Right now it felt impossible to get ever to this days back again. It stood silent and hunched in the rain, like a small child which tried to disappear from the world. 

 

“You are a stubborn fool!” Aramis declared and caught Porthos smirk in the corner of his eye. “You too! I know I repeat myself, mostly at the front door of this building!” He threw his hands in the air but had to admit, that he was glad to bring Athos back home. They had looked after the building last night as promised and it had been a painful sight. 

Aramis could feel Athos exhaustion and Porthos’ strength faded to, so he was glad that they had reached their destination.  
Athos hand shook as he grabbed the door knob and turned it around. It won’t open at his try and his friends could see a flicker of panic in his eyes, before he leaned his forehead against the door and pressed his hand flat against the dark wood.

The door clicked and a soft smile ghosted over Athos face before he entered, followed by Aramis and Porthos. Athos didn’t wait for his friends and made his way up the stairs to the second floor. His friends hesitated, they had never been in Athos private rooms before, but followed soon after he disappeared upstairs. 

Athos lead the way through a small floor into a bedroom with two small windows, with thick woolen curtains, which gave them a wonderful sight of the Seine.  
A four poster bed stood on the wall between door and windows. And on the opposite wall was a small fireplace, it looked cold and Athos face paled even further at that sight. He sank to his knees in front of it and Aramis made Porthos sit down in an old and clearly often used armchair in front of it, before he sank down next to Athos. The man was shaking again or maybe even still. Aramis put a comforting hand between his shoulder blades and his friend flinched. “I am sorry” Aramis mumbled and Athos nodded without a look at his friend. 

“It isn’t burned down yet, we have to make it burn again” he whispered and Aramis felt the magic that run through Athos body and into the grey ash. He looked from Athos to the fireplace and at Porthos. The moment their eyes locked they both understood, the fire was the houses soul. But they both can’t see a glimmer in the dark ash at all but it seemed that Athos did and the house had opened the door, it has to be alive then.  
Athos let his fingers dig very careful through the cold ash until he found a piece of warm and soft glowing coal. He lifted it carefully out of the cold ash but didn’t take it out of the fireplace. He set it aside and cleaned everything before he began to build up new wood and placed the faintly glowing coal in the middle of the freshly built up wood on top of some chippings. Then they sat in silence for a few minutes while Athos regained some of his strength. 

“‘mis we need to help the house to heal” he rasped and looked with pleading eyes at his friend. “We will mon ami, but you need to rest first.” “There is no time for that, we have to do it now.” Aramis sighted. “Okay, how?”  
“Put your hand on my shoulder, than you will be able to see the damage. It will be different from healing people but not that much. I will show you the way and then we have to work us through most of the damage. The more we get done, the more the house will be able to heal itself.”  
Aramis nodded.  
“What will I do?” Porthos asked from behind them, feeling slightly uncomfortable with sitting around and doing nothing.  
“Comfort the house when you can and look if Roger will come back.” Athos said. Aramis and Porthos exchanged a look but didn’t dare to ask, Athos had his eyes closed and with a last look at Porthos he laid his hand at Athos back and closed his eyes too. 

It was a fascinating thing that happened to him in the next few hours or had it been days? He wasn’t able to tell and even Porthos had lost every sense of time, while he soothed the house as it suffered from being healed.  
Athos led Aramis deep into the walls and they began to heal and repair brick by brick. It was a long and tiring work. Soon his muscles started to burn and after a while he could sense another presence next to Athos, the man smiled without stopping in his work. After a while Aramis realized that it was the bookshop, which began to heal itself. 

When Athos lead him back to the surface he felt pain everywhere, his whole body seemed to be on fire and only Porthos strong arm around his waist prevented him to end face first on the thick carpet. “Easy now, I’ve got you.” He said and led him to the armchair, where he sank down heavily with a shaky breath.  
After he had composed himself he opened his eyes and looked into Porthos’ soft brown irises.  
“You’re with me again?”  
Aramis nodded and thankfully accepted a glass of water, wherever that had come from, before he spoke: “Yes, thank you. Where is Athos?”  
Porthos stepped aside and Aramis saw their friend in front of the fire. It wasn’t a bright one yet, but small flames where licking on the wood, making their way up. The house was definitely not healed, but it was on its way. It was safe now. 

“Has Roger come back?” Athos whispered without looking at them and Porthos shook his head, before he realized that his friend couldn’t see him. But it seemed he had felt the gesture.  
“I thought so.” Then there was silence.

“Athos who did this to you?” 

They had to wait a few moments before they got an answer. Porthos thought they maybe won’t get one, but Athos only seemed to need some time to gather his thoughts.  
“I can only think of one person which would be able to do something like this, but she is dead. However I can’t think of someone else, but it is impossible. She is gone and…” His voice faltered and Porthos kneeled next to his exhausted friend. 

“Come, you need to rest, take a shower or a hot bath and then you need to sleep. We will stay here; I think we all could use a good night’s sleep and something warm to eat before that. I will order us something and you two make everything comfortable.”

Later that night, when everything was silent the little bookshop regained even more strength from the friendship it could feel inside its walls. From Aramis on the sofa of the guest room, sleeping peacefully with dreams of a petite women, from Porthos only a few meters away on the bed, lying on his good side and mumbling something about food and a card game.  
Even Athos was asleep, exhausted from the days’ work and his injuries he laid in his bed, facing the windows, his restless mind wandering to find the woman that had once again betrayed him, even though she should be dead.  
But for now the four of them were safe.


	5. Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath something has to be done.

When Aramis opened his eyes to the dim grey light of another rainy morning he wasn’t quite sure why he felt like he had been hit by a truck. Then he heard the soft snoring of Porthos somewhere to his left and the memories of last night came back. They had saved the bookshop and after something to eat they had all fallen asleep instantly. The damage on the small building had been immense and Aramis was eager to learn how the healing had progressed over the night, but he can’t feel anything. It looked like only Athos was able to connect with the house, he considered to climb out of the bed and have a look at the hearth in Athos bedchamber, but that would imply scrambling out of the warm covers, setting bare foot on the cold wooden floor and wander over the much colder hallway into Athos’ bedroom. An action that would most likely wake the other man, probably he was awake already, because Aramis was and his breathing had changed in the meantime. ‘Or’, Aramis thought sarcastically, ‘he can hear you thinking through the walls. Safest thing to go back to sleep for a few hours, it seems to be quite early.’ And with that he let sleep claim him once again.

True to Aramis thoughts, Athos knew the other man was awake and more than grateful that he went back to sleep for the moment. He had something important to do and the ever fretting medic would have only been a hindrance and demanding that Athos was in no condition to do something like that and then he would try to help. And then Athos has to strangle him. But that wasn’t the main reason, Aramis had helped enough yesterday and it was important that he won’t tax his already overworked body any further. He was strong, same as Porthos, but they both don’t know how strong they really were and he won’t tell them until it was necessary. Someday the time would come, it always does, but not now. Now he would save his friend and therefore he needed to be alone and undisturbed.  
He sat in his well-used armchair in front of the fire. The flames were stronger than last night and he wasn’t afraid they would burn down anymore. He felt the pain of the little bookshop, it would ache for a few more days or probably weeks, but it wasn’t afraid anymore. It rested, like his both companions. The building soothed itself on the friendship that Aramis and Porthos brought inside its walls and Athos would try to keep them as long as possible to help this old soul to heal.  
He settled more comfortable in his chair and began to search for a soul, which kept him sane since centuries.

When Porthos woke he wasn’t able to suppress a smile. Aramis laid on his back, arms and legs sprawled in every direction, his aura colorful and sparkling, no point in misinterpreting the smile on his face. ‘Looks like a good dream’, he mused and thought about closing his eyes again. This bed was too damn comfortable. He looked at his phone, it was well past midday and he decided that someone of their lazy pack has to get up and make coffee. Probably Athos had already done that and had opened the bookshop, too. His unlimited sense of duty calling him despite his injuries and the heavy magical work they had done yesterday.  
He slipped out of the bed and put his clothes on, before he headed to the small kitchen. No Athos, no coffee. It looked like he was right and Athos was already up, selling books like any other day. Grumpy he made his way downstairs and was greeted with the same sight as in the kitchen. No Athos, no coffee. Alarmed he went back to the first floor, thinking about waking Aramis, but he scolded himself instantly for that. Aramis was sleeping peacefully and needed the rest after yesterday’s effort. Maybe it was the same with Athos, but Porthos didn’t believe that.  
He crept to the bedroom door and opened it slowly. He needed a moment to adjust his eyes to the dim light. The curtains were closed, the only light came from the hearth, where flames were burning evenly. In front of the fire sat Athos in his armchair. The man was deep asleep, a dark blue aura wavering loose around him. Porthos had never seen him this peaceful and relaxed. In his lap laid Roger, curled up in a ball with one of Athos hands buried in his soft black fur. The cat opened his eyes, blinked at Porthos and begun to purr. At the sound Athos aura got an even deeper shade of blue, Porthos smiled and retreated while Roger closed his eyes.  
He would make coffee and let the others sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> The swinging sign is inspired by another storie (think it is called "Sylvies" by Roobs_Teacup, hope it is okay I used it!)  
> Thought I should point out, that this one wasn't my own idea so far...


End file.
